


The Caregivers

by TheCookieStyles



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Baby Harry, Daddy Louis, F/M, Infantilism, Kidnapping, Mummy Eleanor, Non-Sexual Age Play, Small Harry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-07
Updated: 2017-07-07
Packaged: 2018-11-29 03:54:04
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,504
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11432604
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheCookieStyles/pseuds/TheCookieStyles
Summary: Where partners Louis Tomlinson and Eleanor Calder have been craving for a little to look after, and when they meet eighteen-year-old Harry Styles in a new club in Bradford, they realise he is what they have wanted. All along.





	The Caregivers

**Author's Note:**

> I was thinking about a fic to write, and then out of nowhere the French interview Louis and Harry did together just popped into my mind. Like, Louis' voice is so soft and gentle throughout and it was so nice to hear! And like, when they had to talk abou their bandmates and Harry spoke over Louis and Louis just smiled at him gently and hinted for him to continue...he's so soft with his baby!  
> That's basically how Louis talks in this whole fic XD

It was around seven in the morning when Harry came to. He felt groggy and weighed down, and he had to use what little strength he had to keep his eyes from drooping fully closed. This wasn't going to be a good day for sure.

There weren't many memories of the night before. All's he remembered was that he went out with his best friend, Ed, and had gotten absolutely wasted. The two of them had gone to the grand opening of the new nightclub: Purple Envy, and needless to say, Harry had to use his ID a lot. Poor kid didn't look a day over fourteen. You know, 'cause nowadays, you don't know what age a person is. Genes sure have evolved. And clubs were picking up on it.

The lad's real age was eighteen, which was old enough to get into nightclubs in England. People serving gave him funny looks, but the ID looked real enough, so they were forced to let it go. But maybe, if they had questioned him just a little bit more, he might not have been in the situation he was now. Getting sent away from a club, though embarrassing, was better than waking up in a stranger's house.

Letting out a cute snuffle, Harry rolled over, only to have his forehead crash into some wooden bars. The lad yelped, but when he tried to move his hands to clutch the aching area, he realised that he couldn't move them. Had he really had that much to drink that last night that he now couldn't move? It wasn't until Harry properly opened his eyes and the blurriness faded away did he realise that he wasn't in a travel inn with Ed. 

"Wha...?" he slurred, and was shamed to find that he couldn't get his words out right. He had always spoken slower than the average person, but he had never felt so out of action that he couldn't form a proper word!

The wooden bars were thick and tall, but they had gaps between them, so Harry could easily peer through them. He did, and was surprised to see...toys.

Many toys. A big, grey elephant stuffie sat on a pristine, white rocking chair, staring at Harry with a big smile under its trunk. Could elephants even smile? And then there were many plush cats and kittes littered around the room, along with fluffy, plush puppies. The walls were painted a baby blue colour, contrasting with the white wooden bars currently surrounding Harry, along with the chest of drawers and of course, the rocking chair. ABC's covered a lot of the lower half of the baby blue wall, along with pictures of bunnies and hand-drawn birds.

It was the room of a rich baby, Harry thought. But wait...

The white door opened, revealing a woman with long, brunette hair, and large, brown doe eyes. She wore a pink lace nightie, making Harry blush immediately and try to cover his eyes, though his arms were still a little funny, so he resorted to burying his face into the soft mattress beneath him.

"Aww, is someone being shy for Mummy?" she asked softly, her rather posh London accent like music to his ears. She didn't look the sort to force someone into her home, but then again, who did? "Does my little Harry want something to drink?"

Wait, how did she know his name? He could honestly say that he had never seen this woman in his life, and the fact that she knew him was quite scary. Unless he had copped off with her last night at the club? But then why would she put him in what seemed to be a cot, in a bloody nursery?!

Oh no. What if she was a stalker? Like that lady off Misery? He didn't want his ankles banged with a hammer!

"Nooo..." he whimpered, pushing his head back up. She was now leaning over the wooden bars, watching Harry below her and gazing at him with pure fondness. Oh gosh - what had he gotten himself into?! Oh, this was all stupid Ed's fault!

See, Harry didn't like to drink that much. Clubs and partying just weren't his forte; he much preferred sitting his room, by himself, writing song lyrics and coming up with melodies on his little piano. Reading books, photographing butterflies, being aesthetic: that was what he liked to do. Unlike his older sister, Gemma, who was now in college, and was having the time of her life staying up 'til early hours of the morning and stumbling into her classes half-dressed.

Ed was originally from Yorkshire, however he had moved to Suffolk at a young age. When he reached eighteen, he moved to Cheshire to start his music career, and that was when he met Harry. They clicked instantly and wrote songs together, and even did a few gigs across England. Their biggest was in London, at a big festival. Hell, they even got some screentime!

Purple Envy was all the way back in West Yorkshire. It wasn't in Ed's hometown; instead, it was situated in Bradford, a place that Harry wasn't very familiar with. His Mum hadn't been too keen on him going to Bradford with just Ed, however the latter had assured her that he would take good care of her son. Only, he didn't. I mean, who wants to be looking out for their younger friend at a club when you can be on the floor dancing and drinking? Not Ed, that was for sure.

Where was Ed, Harry wondered briefly. Was he here too?

"Let's go and see Daddy, hmm?" the woman suggested, leaning down and picking Harry up. 

He'd always been small for his age. Lanky too - hardly ever putting any weight on. His friends teased him for it all the time, giving him titles such as 'runt' and 'baby', picking him up always. They knew it annoyed him to no end; he really disliked his height.

But, this was quite embarrassing. The woman didn't look a lot older than him, maybe about seven or eight years, yet here she was, perching him on her hip as if he weighed nothing. Unfortunately, he appeared to have even littler strength after being picked up, as the most he could do was lightly tap her arm or move his head. And his head was killing, so he tried to refrain from moving it as much as possible.

"You must be hungry, hmm? I'll give you some water so your throat's not too dry, and then I'll feed you. Is that okay, pumpkin?"

Harry whined.

He didn't know where he was being carried to, as his head was lulled over her shoulder so his eyes only saw a light peach colour, which no doubt was her skin. It smelled of moisturiser and perfume, making Harry's off stomach roll.

"Look who's come in to see his Daddy?" the woman called, and within a minute, Harry felt himself be transferred to another set of arms. So, there were more people? Was it like a...cult?

Beginning to cry softly, Harry buried his face into the warm shirt of the person who was holding him. He didn't know what he was here for, but these people were scaring him! And his head and tummy were killing and he was thirsty and hungry and he wanted to go home!

"Aww, I know, I know," a gentle voice cooed in his ear. This was definitely a male one - high-pitched, but male - making Harry jump to the conclusion that the woman from before had a partner in crime. He wriggled in the person's arms, having felt a tiny bit of adrenaline kick in, and gave some weak pushes to the chest. "Poor thing. I think he wants his Mummy to feed him."

The woman spoke again. "I thought I'd give 'im some water first, since he seems pretty dehydrated and I don't know how good of a job the milk will do," she expressed quietly.

"Love," the man started. "You know what they told us. Just start him on the milk first. It gives him both food and drink," he was speaking very softly now, that Harry had to strain to hear him, which made his head pound more. "Give 'im some after if he still wants it or if 'e starts crying. I mean, I 'ave a feeling he'll be a little...fussy for his first feed. If you know what I mean."

Nodding, the woman smiled, giving Harry the heart-eyed look again, before turning back to the man, who Harry had yet to see. "Does his bum need changing? I thought he felt a bit wet when I carried him in but I wasn't too sure."

Harry's eyes widened. Did his what-what need changing? As if to confirm his thoughts, the person holding Harry patted the boy's bottom, making him squeal. "Feels like it. Probably all of that stupid beer he had last night."

"Lou-"

"I know, El, alright? I just can't believe there was no-one looking out for him. There were four ambulances outside of that club last night! I hope it gets bloody shut down."

So, they had been watching him whilst he was at the club? That's when he realised they had most probably taken advantage of his drunken state to bring him to wherever they were. The man was definitely a Yorkshire native, though not West Yorkshire...more like South. His partner or whoever she was must have moved to live with him, unless they had fled the city last night.

"Lemme gooo," Harry drawled, weakly hitting the man's chest. To his dismay, the man, 'Lou', just ignored him and grabbed a towel off one of the rails in he bedroom before sprawling it on the bed and then picking up Harry to lay the boy on top of it.

Not being able to move his head that much, Harry could only slightly see what was in-front of him. He kicked his legs up and was able to see that his legs were bare, however he could feel soft material on his tummy and chest. Kicking them up higher, to the point where his bottom came slightly up off the bed, he saw that he was wearing what looked to be a legless onesie. It buttoned at the crotch, leaving his thighs, legs and feet bare.

"Someone's a little kicker, aren't they?" Lou crooned, unsnapping the onesie. Harry gasped when he saw the plush nappy taped around his hips. He began to cry, despite his head hurting, wanting to know what the hell was going on. "Shh, shh. Oh, I know, baby...you poor thing."

His cries only got louder when he felt the nappy be removed from his lower area. He tried to cover himself up by rolling over onto his tummy, but Lou just flipped him right back into his previous position. 

"His bum's a bit red, Louis," El commented from where she was stood. Lou, or 'Louis', which Harry now guessed was his proper name, patted an empty space on the bed, motioning for her to sit down. 

Hearing her words made Harry flush as red as a tomato. "It's just a bit irritated 'cause he's been in a wet nappy for who knows how long," Louis explained. "We'll just have to make sure to put a lot of cream on you," he cooed, turning to Harry and giving his tummy a little tickle. Harry involuntarily squealed, earning a few more tickles from the two elders.

Firstly, his front was cleaned with wipes, to which he squirmed the whole way through. Then, his ankles were lifted. The unexpected turn caused his vision to go hazy for a minute, but he quickly recovered, only to see that his bottom was now high in the air. He cried again, but Louis only responded by making sad noises, as if that would make Harry feel any better. Meanwhile, El rubbed the boy's hair, leaning over and gently pushing his head down so the only direction he was facing was upwards. He tried to look anywhere but her face, but it was hard when she kept moving to get in his eyeline.

Suddenly, a cooling sensation was spread over his lower regions. Harry would have screamed, despite how bad his head hurt, but it felt so nice! It wasn't icy cold, but it wasn't warm either, leaving a very soothing feeling on the lad. He may or may not have closed his eyes because of how relaxed he was.

"Just put a shirt on 'im, so he's not too hot," El whispered, standing up from the bed.

"I will, love," Louis replied. "Ready to feed 'im yet?"

"Yeah, I just need to use the toilet," she laughed, and then gave the man a kiss before going out of the room.

Louis smiled widely, and then got a small shirt out of the drawer. It had a cute little monkey on it, and it was sure to look cute on his baby boy.

Harry huffed when he felt himself being moved around. When another nappy was attached to his waist he glared at Louis angrily, who just patted the boy's padded bottom. Harry growled, making Louis retract his hand, though he clearly wasn't intimidated, as he chuckled, "Okay, okay, Mr Fussy-Pants."

As soon as he was back on his feet, Harry was getting out of this weird place. It reminded him of some dystopian novel he'd read back in year eight, where people were kidnapped and forced to act like cats. It wasn't a popular story, but Harry couldn't take his eyes off it. Thinking about it at this moment in time made him really hate it, though. The novel wasn't all that fictional after all.

El returned to the bedroom a few moments later. "'Ere, love, get comfy," Louis smiled, placing the towel back on the rail and moving all of he changing supplies away. Then, very gently, he wriggled the new shirt over Harry's head, moving himself and the other boy out of the way so El could comfortably sit down. "Time for some breakfast!" the man chirped, picking up Harry and going over his partner.

She smiled up at the two and reached out for Harry, who was groaning and shuffling against Louis' chest. Louis gently placed Harry in El's arms, ruffling the boy's hair slightly, before lying down next to them. Strange, Harry thought. Louis was in clothes that suggested that he was ready to go out while El was still in her pyjamas. Was he leaving?

It wasn't until Harry had realised that El had let the upper part of the nightie fall did he snap back into reality. He watched her with wide eyes, wondering what she was doing, until he saw her tugging at her bra. Her nursing bra.

That was it. No way...no way! To say he lashed out was an understatement; screaming, hitting and fighting overall. He was blinded with rage - these freaks had forced him away from home, into a nappy, and now they were trying to breastfeed him?! He needed to leave NOW!

A sharp slap laid on his bum stopped all of his movements together.

"Eleanor, love, are you okay?" Louis asked softly, and it wasn't until Harry looked at 'Eleanor' did he see what he had done.

He must have punched her in the breast by accident. Whilst he was propped up in her lap, she was hunched over, holding her chest and keeping her eyes tightly closed. "I-I don't think I can feed him now," she stated tearfully. Carefully, she re-fastened her bra and pulled the nightie up before hastily setting Harry down. She then got up quickly and rushed out of the bedroom.

Louis exhaled heavily, before swivelling around to face Harry, who was sat on the bed and staring at Louis with big eyes. He tutted and pulled the boy closer to him. "That was a very bad move, young man," he reprimanded sternly. Harry shuddered; Louis' voice was still soft, but it didn't have that gentle tone to it. It sounded angry and annoyed.

"Sorry!" Harry squeaked. Weird; he was the one that was apologising yet it was he that had been kidnapped. Though, the look on Louis' face would make anyone squeak with fear.

"I'm afraid that's not good enough, Harry. You've really hurt Mummy. Do you know how much pain she's in right now?"

Truthfully, he didn't, as he was a boy and boys didn't have to deal with stuff like that. However, he did remember one of his Mum's friends used to breastfeed her twins, and she'd always complain about how much pain her breasts were in. 

"D-didn't want to be fed that way though!" he whined, his lips trembling. Louis' expression softened; they had been prepared for a fight off Harry. They just didn't know he'd go this crazy.

"I understand," Louis answered. "But, it's still naughty to hit. You don't have to have any milk from Mummy now; but, you can be punished."

Harry almost deflated when he was told that he didn't have to breastfeed, however his heart rate picked right back up when Louis said 'punished'. That word never meant anything good.

"Don't be afraid of Daddy, little one," Louis cooed, and this time, Harry could hear the genuine gentleness. "I'd never ever hurt my baby. But you need to be taught a lesson, sweetheart. We can't have you hitting me or Mummy every time you don't agree with one of us."

Harry shuddered. "Now, I'm not going to smack you, because it's early days and I don't want you to feel scared. I think some cot time would do you just fine," Louis issued, picking Harry up and taking him into the nursery. The boy was laid down in the room he had come to hate most, and when Louis walked out, shutting the door without saying anything, he felt really sad.

There was no way he could escape: not when he couldn't stand up properly. Ed was probably crapping himself that Harry was missing, unless he was still asleep, hungover. That just made him feel worse; did Ed even care?

He didn't even know where he was! What if everyone here was just as crazy as Louis and Eleanor? And it sounded like the couple had been stalking him anyway - they'd find him, wouldn't they?

About ten minutes later, both Louis and Eleanor walked into the nursery, though Harry didn't notice them, too caught up with his depressing thoughts. Eleanor was now dressed for the day, like Louis, sporting a light pink shirt and white jeans, while Louis wore striped shirt and red jeans. Both gave each other sad looks when they saw the tears falling down their baby's face.

"Hey, little one," Louis called softly, bending down and picking Harry up out of the cot. The small eighteen-year-old instantly burrowed into his neck, letting his cold, salty tears splash down the man's bronze skin.

"Oh no," Eleanor cooed sadly, kissing the boy's curls. "Someone's a sad little man now."

"I think he's upset that he hurt his Mummy," Louis suggested in a sympathetic tone, pulling the boy away from him slightly so that he could get a good look at him. Harry whimpered and pushed against the man's chest, trying to bury close to him again. "Come on, we've got your milk in a bottle this time. That's so much better, isn't it?"

Harry sniffled as he was carried to their kitchen. He didn't look around it properly, being as upset as he was, and just leaned against Louis' chest as the man shook the bottle that he had left on the countertop. Eleanor, meanwhile, hummed a soft tune whilst waiting for her partner. "It's all forgiven now, baby," she smiled when Harry looked at her, his teary eyes making her heart break. "Mummy knows you didn't mean it."

They all sat down in the large living room, Harry's upper body rested on Louis' stomach while his legs laid sprawled over Eleanor's own. She began playing with his toes, earning a slight giggle from the boy. 

He stared warily at the bottle in Louis' hand. This was all so wrong. He wanted to fight, but he just felt so sad. No, he had not given up, but being left by himself really did make his mind wander into a bad, dark place. He was almost glad when he saw Louis and Eleanor's faces looking down at him, giving him soft looks.

The bottle made him very sleepy, he noticed. The warm milk that sloshed down his throat was just so nice and soothing, and it sent his bad thoughts away. When I wake up, he thought. I'll leave when I wake up, when I can move.

And as he fell asleep, laid against Louis' chest, the last words he heard, from Louis, were: "It'll get better, little Harry. I promise."

**Author's Note:**

> What do you all think? Should I continue?  
> If so, any suggestions?  
> Thanks for reading! <3


End file.
